


The Definition of Bravery is

by dottie_wan_kenobi



Series: Harry Potter (series) Fics [21]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bullying, Crushes, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), POV Peter Pettigrew, Pre-Relationship, Self-Esteem Issues, in this house we love bb peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:01:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27869618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dottie_wan_kenobi/pseuds/dottie_wan_kenobi
Summary: “You’re plenty brave, Pete,” Remus said, in the tone he took when he thought he was for sure, without a doubt, one hundred percent correct.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter
Series: Harry Potter (series) Fics [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799116
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	1. The Conversation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Felpata_Lupin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felpata_Lupin/gifts).



> Written for Felpata_Lupin over on FanficTalk as a holiday present! Happy holidays, Chiara!! I've always wanted to write a Peter-centered story, and I really enjoyed this one so there'll be more to come <3

Remus had once pulled Peter aside after they’d all limped back to their dorm, still stinging from Snape’s and his friends’ hexes. Like was often the case, Peter had frozen in the face of wands pointed at him, scared of getting hurt and scared of messing up a spell or—Merlin forbid—not being able to cast at all. (He had nightmares like that, sometimes. Where he stood alone in a hall except for the looming shape of monsters, who aimed wands and curses at him. He’d lift his own and his voice wouldn’t work. Or it would, but he’d try and try, and nothing would happen, no spells of any sort coming out.) 

It was terrifying, being so defenseless, and even though he knew it was only a dream, well. Standing there in reality wasn’t any better. He didn’t always have his friends with him when fights started. And even when he did, all he could think about were the dreams. It was easier to freeze and not have to risk his wand or his magic or his voice failing him. Even if it did make him feel sick to his stomach with anger at himself. What kind of Gryffindor got scared? What kind of Gryffindor was he if he couldn’t even defend himself in a duel?

He’d felt that way for a long time. But then Remus had pulled him aside, out of earshot of their friends, who were complaining to each other and licking their wounds. He’d leaned back against the wall of a little alcove in the hall, and Peter mimicked him on the other side, shoulders creeping up to his ears as he wondered what Remus might say. Remus was smart, and he was quick in duels, and though none of them had ever been mean about it before, he thought it was only a matter of time. If the situation were reversed, he would probably be a little annoyed.

Except, Remus wasn’t mean. He pushed a hand through his hair in a very James-like gesture, and he’d met Peter’s eyes head-on. Peter, flushing, looked away—his gaze was too intent, and he was too smart, and he would probably be able to read Peter’s mind easily even though none of them knew legilimency.

“It’s okay to be scared,” he said eventually. Peter couldn’t help but snort, because that was just stupid—of course it wasn’t. “You know, some people say bravery is being scared, but doing whatever it is anyway.”

That didn’t sound right to him—it was the opposite of everything else he’d ever heard—but he also knew that Remus wouldn’t lie about something like this. Not to Peter, or their other friends. And sometimes Remus believed in stupid things—like that he was a monster—but most of the time, he wasn’t gullible. If he said something was true, it most likely was.

Peter looked up to his face, searching for any hint of amusement or doubt. He saw none, just sincerity and kindness and that silly jaw twitch he always got when he was thinking too hard and not saying anything. Peter’s heart flip-flopped at the thought of Remus thinking so hard about him, and—it felt like he was trying to comfort him. Remus wasn’t very touchy on his own, he used words to console, and… he always got that look when he did it.

Peter swallowed hard. He felt squirmy under that gaze, realizing that Remus wasn’t mocking him, but trying to help. That he cared so much he would _try_ to help in the first place. “I—if that’s true, then… doesn’t that mean I’m just scared? If I can’t do it anyway, then there’s no bravery.”

“You’re plenty brave, Pete,” Remus said, in the tone he took when he thought he was for sure, without a doubt, one hundred percent correct.

“But I can’t do _anything_.” He felt like shouting it, because didn’t Remus get it? He _couldn’t_.

“You can,” Remus insisted. “I’ll help you. I’ve been thinking about it, and I know what you should do.”

“You’ve been thinking about it?” Peter choked, embarrassed, though he wasn’t sure if it was because Remus was thinking about how bad he was, or because Remus was thinking about him at all.

“Yeah,” Remus said. He stood up, leaning closer as he explained, “You’re scared, and you get all in your head. You’ve got to pull yourself out. You can do those spells, Pete. I know you can, and I know you can do them well.”

His belief—his praise—warmed Peter’s body, starting in his stomach and expanding out. He was always worried his friends didn’t like him, that they were just keeping him around out of obligation. It felt so good to hear that he was wrong, that Remus _believed_ in him.

“What you need to work on,” Remus said, continuing as if Peter wasn’t melting inside, “is being able to call them up under pressure.”

Struggling to get his thoughts together, he asked, “H-how do I work on that? Get into more fights?”

“We’ll practice dueling. James and Sirius too.”

Peter looked up at that, unsure if he meant Peter was supposed to ask them, or if they were going to do it together, or…

“They already know,” Remus said, smiling reassuringly. “I said we should try it. They’re—they know you can do it too, and James said he thought it was a good idea, to practice with us since you know we’d never actually hurt you.”

Peter couldn’t hold back a sniffle, his eyes hot as he realized—his friends were amazing. They didn’t look down on him, no, they wanted to _help_. 

Suddenly arms wrapped around him from the side, the back, and after a moment, the front too.

“We’ve got your back, Pete,” Sirius said, smushing his face into Peter’s shoulder. James’s glasses were poking into his back, and all he could smell was Remus, his own face pressed into the crook of Remus’s neck. He breathed a sigh of pure relief, taking comfort in his friends’ arms, and thanking Merlin that he got to have them.


	2. The Duel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for bullying comes in here, as well as for a bit of blood. I'm terrible at action scenes so just pretend you don't see it lol

Of course, the next time he found himself in a duel, a real one, it was a month later, and he was alone. Well, mostly alone. James and Sirius were in detention, but Remus was a few steps behind him, doubled over in pain as his nose spilled blood everywhere. Several older Slytherins stood in front of them, jeering and laughing, proud of themselves for hitting Remus with a curse Peter didn’t recognize.

They thought they’d won. They thought, with Remus out for the count, that Peter was nothing to worry about.

He still wasn’t very good at dueling. But there was a protective anger rising in him, one that blocked out all the crippling doubts he still had. Remus’s noises of pain were familiar, but this situation was worlds different from a full moon. He hadn’t hurt himself—no, these boys had. And all Remus had with him was Peter.

His mind quieted as the weight of that responsibility grew on him. It was up to him to get Remus to safety, to help. He refused to let him down.

“Hey!” He said, louder than he’d expected. Usually when they were all practicing, he didn’t talk much except to laugh at his friends’ jokes or cast spells. But this was so different from that too—it wasn’t fun. He wasn’t relaxing the longer he stood there. Remus was _hurt_ and it was up to him to protect him from these—these _bullies_.

The three older boys turned their attention to him, sharp smiles on their faces. One stood forward, brandishing his wand loosely, like he wasn’t concerned at all. “Oh, is ickle Pettigrew gonna do something to us? Yeah, right.”

“ _Locomotor Wibbly_ ,” he shouted, aiming for the boy but missing by a few inches. Gritting his teeth, he tried again, trying to hold his arm steady. He heard Remus’s voice in his head, saying with conviction, You got this. Taking a deep breath, he repeated, “ _Locomotor Wibbly!_ ”

That time it connected. The boy’s legs turned to jelly within a few seconds, and he wobbled dangerously, the look on his face that of great annoyance. It was scary, in a distant way, but something had happened inside of Peter. He’d actually hit his opponent! A brief surge of confidence left him staring this older boy in the face, thinking not of the pain he could inflict but of how to get him away from them. His mind wasn’t blanking at all, and it felt wonderful.

There were only so many spells, however, that he’d practiced. And jelly-legs wasn’t quite good enough on its own.

Peter cast, “ _Flipendo!_ ”, and the boy was pushed back into a wall, where he fell and couldn’t get up, his legs unable to hold him up for very long at all. (He was going to have to tell Sirius and James about that later, the way he kept trying to stand only for his legs to flop over, sending him crashing to the ground.)

Turning to the other boys, who both looked shocked and angry and ready to fire back, he didn’t waste time. Sirius always said to strike before someone could get him first. Taking further inspiration from his friend, he cast, “ _Melofors_ ,” one of Sirius’s favorites. A large pumpkin suddenly replaced one of the boys’ head. Shocked, the boy’s hands came up, patting the pumpkin as he made a muffled shouting noise.

He was definitely going to tell Sirius about that later.

That last of the three Slytherins had his wand raised, his eyes narrowed in rage or concentration or both. His heart stuttered in his chest at the sight, but he remembered Remus was just behind him, in pain. He needed Peter to be strong right now. Swallowing the fear, he tried, “ _Furnunculus!_ ”

It took a moment, but finally it did work—boils grew on his face grotesquely, and the boy yelped in pain as more and more came, his attention broken. No spells were shot Peter’s way as he fell to his knees, clutching his face. 

Peter could see why James was so scared of being hit with that one, but he was glad for all the practice he’d insisted on too. His fingertips were tingling with shock—he couldn’t stop repeating over and over in his head, _I just did that. I just did that!_

But there were other things to be concerned with. Like getting Remus and fleeing before a teacher could come. It would probably only be a matter of time.

Turning, he found Remus was slightly less hunched over, and though his eyes seemed a little clearer, Peter could tell he was still hurting by the way his fists were clenched. “Oh, Moony,” Peter sighed urgently, tucking his wand in his pocket and hurrying to Remus’s side.Trying to mimic James’s commanding tone, he said, “I’m taking you to the Hospital Wing.”

Remus didn’t even try to refute him, which meant something was really wrong. Peter didn’t bother to feel bad for leaving the older boys there on the floor, just held carefully onto Remus while cursing in his mind, _All we were doing was walking!_ Of course, without their other friends around, they seemed like easy targets.

But not today, Peter thought, pleased. Because today, he’d not only cast a spell in a duel—he’d won it.

They were halfway there when Remus finally spoke. His voice was thick when he did, but Peter understood him just fine.

“You did it,” he said, a bloody smile on his face. Peter’s heart skipped a beat again, oddly— _attracted_ to the sight. He let himself bask in it this time, glowing with pride. Nothing was going to bring him down right then. Not that Remus’s smile ever did. “I knew you could. And thanks for…,” he waved his free hand in the air, gesturing to everything that had and still was happening.

Peter puffed up happily. Sincerely, he said, “I couldn’t have done it if it weren’t for you. Not just because of the practicing, either, but—but you getting hurt like that…it made me angry. I wanted to protect you. Then I just stopped thinking about anything but that, that you got hurt, and it worked.” His voice dropped some, an excited exhale as he said, “I fought them, and I _won_.”

Remus’s cheeks went pink when Peter started talking, and by the time he was done, the blush had turned a lovely shade of red. “It was—you looked good,” he choked out, looking away. His jaw twitched.

Peter nearly tripped over his own feet. A flush erupted over his own cheeks, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find a way to communicate his shock and hope and joy. 

“MOONY!” James and Sirius screeched from down the hall, close to the doors of the Hospital Wing. They immediately came running, full tilt, for them.

“We’ll talk later,” Remus said, turning his head and scanning Peter’s face. He seemed a tad nervous, a wavering and matching hope in his eyes. “Right?”

Was he dreaming? He was probably dreaming. Except none of his dreams were this amazing.

“Definitely,” was all Peter could say before their friends crashed into them, demanding answers to several overlapping questions.

James stole Remus away, and while none of them were looking his way, Peter pinched himself. It hurt, but it couldn’t wipe the smile off his face for even a second.


End file.
